


Winners of the Game

by Angelise (angelise7)



Series: Best Buds [31]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Damn -- it's hard to say goodbye!, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Slash, Resolution, Resolution as in . . . The End of this series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-22
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-16 16:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4632459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelise7/pseuds/Angelise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An entire year has passed. What has happened to our boys?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winners of the Game

**Author's Note:**

> The muse originally left several cliffhangers when she lost interest in this series. This very simple chapter answers all questions my readers posed of me over the years.
> 
> Major thanks for reading! It's been a blast re-visiting the boys and their families.

June 23, 2009 – Blaine is 20 years old and Trent is 19.

 

“Breathe, Budman. Just close your eyes and breathe.”

Resting his forehead against that of his boyfriend’s, Blaine closed his eyes and did as instructed. Minutes passed while he matched his breathing to Trent’s.

“It’s not helping,” he confessed. 

Actually it was. The feel of Trent’s arms hugging his waist, the hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans pulling him close, the scent that was unique to Trent – all of it was calming him more than the actual deep breathing. 

The hands cupping his ass tightened briefly. “I’m not an expert on relaxation techniques,” was whispered in his ear a second before sharp teeth made their acquaintance of his earlobe, “but I’m pretty sure the exercises I’m thinking of will mellow you right out.”

Blaine groaned when the aforementioned sharp teeth sunk themselves into the juncture where his neck met his shoulder. “Dare I guess what you’re thinking?”

He glanced around the spacious interior of the RV. At the moment, except for him and Trent, everyone else, his dad and Dan to be specific, was outside mixing it up with the rest of the fans that had traveled from Baton Rouge to Omaha, Nebraska to support the team.

It had been one hell of a year. After winning the Southeastern Conference Tournament Championship, LSU had entered the 2009 College Baseball World Series ranked No. 3 in the nation. They were now in the finals, facing the Texas Longhorns. To take the championship they had to win two games. The first game they won 7-6. He not only pitched the last three innings but had also contributed a home run to the final score. The second game, unfortunately, had gone to Texas, 5-1. Tomorrow the deciding game would be played and guess who had been chosen as starting pitcher?

“Breathe. Stop thinking whatever it is you’re thinking and take a deep breath. I can feel your heart beating 90 to nothing.”

Sucking in a deep breath, he wrapped his arms around Trent’s shoulders and hugged as tight as he could. “What if I screw up? What if my arm gives out and we lose the game?” He bit back a protest when Trent gently extricated himself. 

Sure and strong fingers dug into the tight muscles of his neck and shoulders. It was heaven, pure heaven and for a few seconds he lost himself in the magical touch of Trent’s fingers.

“Look at me, Budman.”

He opened his eyes and met a steel gaze of emerald staring straight at him. 

“Do I really need to remind you how fucking awesome a pitcher you are? How golden this arm truly is?” Trent leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his right shoulder, his teeth tugging on the tanned flesh exposed by his sleeveless jersey. “Shall I quote?” He licked a path from shoulder down to bicep. “ ‘Blaine Matthews has been the best starter in college baseball this season. He has the raw stuff to intrigue big league scouts even now at the end of his junior year.’ End quote.”

Fingers tugged on the waistband of his jeans, and Blaine dropped his gaze to the thumb playing with the zipper’s pull tab. 

“Yeah, yeah, but tomorrow’s the ---- umph!” His protest was swiftly silenced by the hand covering his mouth.

Again the steel gaze zeroed in on him.

“Blaine Matthews, are you going to pitch your best against those Longhorns? Yes or No will suffice.”

He offered up a muffled ‘yes.’

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” 

The commitment ring Trent wore was pressing against his lips. He offered it a swift kiss. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry. My hearing must be on the fritz. What did you say?”

He wrestled Trent’s hand away from his mouth, and, in a smooth move, twisted his boyfriend’s entire arm behind his back. “YES!! Damn it! YES! I’m going to pitch the best damn game you’ve ever seen in your entire life!”

Trent laid a kiss on him that left his brain in a complete meltdown. Grinning, his boyfriend expertly extracted his arm and pushed him in the direction of the RV’s sleeping quarters. “That’s all I needed to know. Now, how about exploring the few relaxation techniques I’m an expert at?”

Trent had relieved him of his jersey and was working on the zipper of his jeans before his ass hit the mattress. “Jesus Christ! We can’t do this here! Not now! The front door’s unlocked. Dad and Dan are just outside. What if . . .”

Trent’s green eyes were blazing, and Blaine swore his dick went straight to a measurement of 10 on the hardness scale at the sight of that smoking hot gaze and how it zeroed in on his crotch. 

“I don’t seem to recall any protests when we did this the other night, with the old folks just down the hallway in their room.”

He grabbed at the hand attempting to divest him of his jeans. “One, it was after midnight. The ‘old folks,’ as you call them, were asleep. Two, you nearly smothered me to death with a pillow when things got . . .” A pillow whacked him in the face.

“Bite it, Hot Stuff. I’m sucking you off come hell or high water.”

Blaine was obedient in all things Trent. He crushed the pillow to his face and hung on for dear life.

 

+++++++

 

“Boys? Are you decent?”

Blaine cracked one eye open. “Crap,” he muttered. Without waking Trent, he grabbed for the covers that had earlier been shoved to the floor and threw them over their naked bodies. He then checked to make sure none of the sex toys Trent had insisted on bringing with them were visible to anyone entering the room. The purple glow in the dark vibrator they had used on each other earlier was lying on the nearby nightstand. He quickly shoved it in the top drawer then called out, “We’re good.”

Blaine listened as his father and Dan entered the RV. From the sound of Dan’s footsteps, he could tell the older man was having trouble with the new prosthetic leg. His father’s next words confirmed his suspicions.

“What part of ‘wear the leg sparingly’ don’t you understand?”

“What part of ‘I want to break this one in as quick as possible’ don’t YOU understand?”

Someone sat down with a moan, and he knew immediately it was Dan.

“Fuck! There’s blood.”

Easing out from underneath Trent’s lax body, he grabbed for his jeans and slid them on. He then took a moment to gaze at his boyfriend’s naked form. Trent was one fine specimen of manhood and, despite his busy schedule, still managed to hit the weights on a daily basis. The muscles in his arms and legs, the washboard abs, hell, the nipple piercings, all of it just made him want to crawl back in bed and lick every inch of the body they belonged to. Another moan from the living area short-circuited that thought.

Hurrying down the hallway, he stopped only long enough to grab the first aid kit from under the kitchen sink. “How bad is it?” he asked once he reached the two men.

Dan sat glaring at his father. “Not as bad as Mother Hen here seems to think.”

“It’s bleeding, you asshole.” Sean removed the kitchen towel from where it was wrapped around Dan’s stump and showed it to him. “See? Blood.”

Dan pulled his amputated leg away from Sean’s grasping hand and examined it. “It’s a blister that’s popped, you idiot.” He grabbed for the towel and dabbed at the bleeding area. “The socket’s still a little too tight. I’ll get it adjusted once we get back home.”

Blaine glanced at the high tech prosthetic discarded on the carpeted floor. It would soon be the one year anniversary of Hurricane Gustav, and the devastation left behind in its wake was still being dealt with by the residents of Southern Louisiana. The repairs to not only their house but also to the Anderson’s had finally seen completion within the last few months. In fact, he had yet to sleep a night in his bedroom since the storm. The entire rear portion of their house, which included his bedroom, had been crushed under the weight of the hundred year old tree that had fallen down upon it.

The partial destruction of their home was nothing compared to the damage done to the family living inside. Trent had suffered a severe concussion and fractured wrist. His sister, Angel, a fractured ankle. 

Blaine glanced at the man affectionately arguing with his dad.

Dan, hell, they had nearly lost Dan. 

His father’s lover had actually been sitting on the porch swing when the tree fell and because his mind was lost in the emotional and mental turmoil brought upon by . . . 

Blaine balked at remembering exactly why Dan was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard the tree falling until it was too late. He and Trent had a lot to answer for in regards to that.

Shaking his head, he returned his attention to Dan and his dad. Both men now had smiles on their faces as they fought over who was the best at applying bandages. His gaze was captured by the roll of gauze his father held in his hand and suddenly all he could see was Dan lying in a hospital bed, the remaining portion of his lower leg covered with a bloody dressing.

He felt a tightness in his chest as his thoughts redirected themselves to the horrifying days and nights immediately following the storm. For two days he had sat beside Trent’s bed, praying for his boyfriend to regain consciousness. He had known Dan was in a bad way, was basically fighting for his life, but even knowing that, knowing the torment his dad was enduring, none of it was strong enough to pull him away from Trent’s side. 

Somewhere around the 48 hour mark, his mother had insisted, or better yet, demanded he leave the room to eat and get some fresh air. It was during this time that he’d finally met up with his dad. Both of them had sought solace in the hospital’s chapel. Without conscious thought, he’d ended up holding his dad’s hand as they prayed and was swept up in a rib-bruising hug just before they left. No words were said but the shared moments went a long way in healing their damaged relationship.

Laughter drew his attention to Dan and the shit-eating grin the man was aiming at his dad, not to mention the roll of gauze he was waving victoriously in the air.

Once Trent had woken up from his severe concussion and was on the road to recovery, all of their attention had turned to Dan. His mom, his older sister, Trent, he, himself – all of them had been there for his dad during the six weeks Dan had spent in Intensive Care fighting for his life. Every time the man went for another surgery to repair the extensive damage done to the right side of his body, the entire family would be found camped out in the surgical waiting room. 

Blaine closed his eyes and murmured a quick prayer of thanks. Dan was one lucky son of a bitch. The man had not only lost the lower portion of his leg but he’d also lost one third of his right lung, a portion of his liver and a section of his intestines. Throw in a right arm fractured in three different places and a hip that had to be replaced not once but twice, it was a god damn miracle the man had made it out of the hospital. Four months to the date saw Dan discharged from the hospital and admitted to a local rehab facility. 

“Hey.” 

A pair of arms encircled his chest, pulling him away from his thoughts of the past. 

“What’s going on?” Trent asked before nudging the area behind his right ear. 

Blaine captured the misbehaving fingers tugging on his nipple piercings and tucked them into the waistband of his jeans. “Dan’s having a problem with his prosthetic.”

“That’s not what I’m seeing.”

Glancing away from the fingers that had escaped their confinement and were now tracing the outline of his dick, he rolled his eyes at the sight of the two older men.

His dad, who was still on his knees, was not only embracing Dan but was also whispering blush-inducing words if the heightened color on Dan’s cheeks was anything to go by. The second his dad’s hand started straying toward territory south of the Dan’s waist, Blaine was on his feet and tugging Trent toward the sleeping quarters. He collected his jersey, wallet and keys.

“Grab your stuff,” he instructed. Trent barely had one arm in the sleeve of his shirt before being hauled out of the RV. 

“I still don’t understand why you get so hot under the collar when your dad and Dan start getting up close and personal.” Trent yanked his t-shirt over his head; it featured the movie poster for the latest Fast and Furious film. “I think it’s fucking cool to see them going at it. Hell, it kinda . . .”

“If you say it turns you on, I’m going to vomit,” Blaine interjected.

His boyfriend punched him in the arm. “As I was going to say before you so rudely interrupted. It kinda makes me happy, seeing how comfortable they are around us. It’s like they trust us with the love they have for each other.” Trent grimaced. “Man, that sounds so fucking girly.” He looked back at the door they had just exited. “They’re only doing what we do.”

Blaine quickly found his hands filled to the max with the solid contours of Trent’s ass. “And what is it we do?”

“We show the world exactly how we feel about each other and to hell with those who can’t accept it.”

He surrendered to the mouth searching for his non-existent tonsils. Oxygen was in serious short supply by the time a familiar voice broke through the near orgasmic haze shutting down his brain.

“Jesus Christ, get a room already.”

Trent recovered his wits first. “Been there, done that twice already today.”

Angel Matthews rolled her eyes. “Too much information, Word Man.”

Trent grinned at the mention of his new nickname and Blaine immediately felt his heart swell with both pride and trepidation. His boyfriend would soon be leaving him, this time for Los Angeles, and neither one of them was looking forward to the extended separation.

“When’s your plane leave?” Angel asked.

Taking a step back, Blaine watched his sister and boyfriend discuss the details of Trent’s impending departure. In the year since the hurricane, Trent’s life had taken a serious detour. His fractured wrist and resulting corrective surgery and rehab had put an end to the career he was to have had with NASCAR driver, Kenney Bueche. 

Fortunately for the Andersons, Bueche, in showing his support for those of his employees affected by the hurricane, had arranged for Trent to attend LSU. The man was not only footing the bill for tuition but had also set up an expense account for all remaining costs. It had been an awesome blessing, one that both he and Trent would never forget.

Laughter refocused his gaze on Trent, and he chuckled at the site of his boyfriend hugging the daylights out of his sister.

“Let me go!” Angel unsuccessfully attempted to free herself. “You smell like . . .” His sister blushed while continuing to struggle. “You know what you smell like. Now . . . let me go!”

Trent delayed for several seconds and got a hard punch to his arm in reward. “What? I smell like Blaine, all manly and . . .” He leered at Angel. “. . . well fucked.”

Angel straightened her clothes and hair. “Again! T. M. I.”

His sister and Trent began walking down the path between the two rows of parked RVs. He followed after them.

Trent had chosen creative writing/journalism as his major and during his first year at college had continued to pen stories for Kenneth Hanks, fiction editor for ‘Instinct’ magazine. The pieces he wrote had matured significantly over time and now focused on gay teenagers and the real life issues they dealt with on a daily basis. The story written about their friends, Austin Marsh and Chris Bowman, had caught the eye of John Stuckey, life-partner of writer/television producer, Jeffrey Richland. 

John had contacted Trent and arranged for a meeting when the two men were in town visiting friends in New Orleans. By the end of the meeting Trent had been asked to expand on the piece and depending on the final rendering, could possibly have his story made into a short film the two men would submit to the 2010 Sundance Film Festival.

His hand was momentarily caught and squeezed. 

“Hey,” Trent said. “Looks like you’re thousands of miles away.”

He lifted his gaze to his boyfriend’s face and offered a bittersweet smile. “I was. Los Angeles, to be exact.”

Trent sighed and shook his head. “It’s only for a week, Budman. I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

Pulling Trent close, he bumped their foreheads together. “Babe, I miss you every moment you’re not with me.”

Trent gagged. “Have you’ve been cruising the Hallmark store again? That was pure mush.”

The two of them stopped outside the rented RV housing his mother and sisters and . . . Blaine stopped from grimacing . . . his new stepfather. “If I can’t be mushy with you then . . .” He slapped Trent on the ass. “You love it when I get all romantic. In fact . . .”

He pulled on the neckline of Trent’s t-shirt and exposed the new tattoo on his boyfriend’s left pec. It was the image of a ball and glove with his name and uniform number imposed over it. “I’m pretty sure that qualifies as romantic.”

He was pulled into the shadows near the rear of the RV and immediately widened his stance when a familiar hand began mapping his family jewels. 

“I wasn’t going to discuss this with you until after the last game but . . .” 

Trent leaned forward as if to kiss him but stop short of doing so. The teasing warmth of his breath caused Blaine to softly moan. The grip on his cock tightened and his moan escalated into a demanding plea for more.

“Fuck! Trent, please . . .”

Trent smirked before laying a swift kiss on him.

“As I was saying . . . wasn’t going to distract you with this until after the game but . . .” 

Trent backed him up against the side of the RV and slid a thigh between his legs. He helplessly rutted against the stone hard muscles pressing against his balls.

“Dan offered to pay your way to LA. Said it was the least he could do to thank us for everything we’ve done for him and your dad over the past year.”

Blaine stilled and after a moment, took a step back. It had been a long road of recovery both physically and emotionally for the entire family. His anger at his parents, at Dan, was not instantly diffused following the destruction left behind by Hurricane Gustav. It had taken nearly a year of counseling, both with his parents and with Dan, before he could accept the reality of his life and the part he had played in it. 

To say he and his dad and Dan were 100% cool with each other was pushing it, but he no longer resented their relationship. In fact, he was somewhat secretly proud of his father and Dan and their steadfast attempts in making sure they were a part of Angel, Suzanne and Lizzie’s lives, no matter what. He couldn’t even begin to count how many times the two men had traveled to Texas for some event involving his sisters. In fact, it was both his dad and Dan that had arranged for the entire family to be here in Omaha. Their constant badgering of his mother, along with Dan’s offer of financial assistance, had finally convinced his mother to make the trip.

Lizzie’s laughter invaded his thoughts and he turned to see all three of his sisters and his mother exiting the RV’s front door. He frowned at the appearance of his stepfather but quickly squashed all thoughts of resentment. It wasn’t Derek’s fault his mother had basically turned her back on her one and only son. 

“Hey Mom.” He waved at his mother. “Dad said to tell you he was starting up the grill around six.”

His mother acknowledged him with a smile before taking the hand of her new husband and walking away. 

“Breathe, Budman. Breathe,” Trent whispered in his ear. “Unless, of course, you want to sign up for more visits with the shrink.”

Turning, he locked gazes with his boyfriend and did as he was instructed. He gripped Trent’s upper arms and took several deep breaths. He still struggled with his mother’s defection on a daily basis despite the counseling he’d gone through. 

His mother and three sisters had permanently relocated to Texas shortly after Dan had entered rehab. His mother had resumed her career in education and was currently an English professor at Texas A&M. To the surprise of all them, she had begun dating Derek Burke, the assistant head coach of the Aggie football team, shortly after the move, and within nine months the two of them were married.

“Let it roll off your shoulders, okay. It’s her problem, not yours.”

Gimli raced by, followed by Lizzie and Suzanne. Angel remained sitting in one of the lawn chairs the family had placed in a semi-circle near the RV’s front door. She was on her iPhone, no doubt talking to Tristan, her current beau of the month.

Taking a final deep breath, Blaine directed Trent further down the row of parked RVs. The two of them walked in silence, stopping occasionally to chat with various team members and their families, along with several hardcore fans of the team.

“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take Dan up on his offer and go with you to LA.” He glanced sideways at his boyfriend and grinned at the way Trent’s face lit up with joy. It didn’t come as a surprise when the oxygen in his lungs was once again in short supply.

“Guess that means you’re okay with me coming with you?” Licking his lips, he claimed Trent’s hand and resumed their walk.

“Budman, you have no idea how ‘okay’ I am with this. You, me, alone, in LA of all places. Just think of the trouble we can get into.”

Blaine took measure of Trent’s awesome physique and began imagining things that had nothing to do with sightseeing. “I’m hoping the same rule that applies to Vegas, applies to LA?” He bumped shoulders with Trent. “What happens in LA, stays in LA?”

Trent stopped and turned to look at him and the smile that appeared on his boyfriend’s face caused him to shudder with anticipation. 

“Budman, you pack the lube. I’ll pack the handcuffs. Damn! We’re gonna have fun!”

"Trent Anderson, you're definitely gonna be the death of me." Leaning forward, he kissed the one he knew he would love forever. Mentally, a smile took shape on his face. Yeah, that was mush, pure unadulterated mush.

"Not before you pitch the game of your life!" Trent shouted while tugging on his arm. "Come on, Budman, I smell steaks grilling!"

Blaine looked in the direction of the stadium and grinned. Life was good and, with Trent at his side, it could only get better.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> The 2009 College World Series was held at Rosenblatt Stadium in Omaha, NE from June 13 through June 24. The LSU Tigers brought home a sixth national championship to decorate its new Alex Box Stadium by besting top-seeded Texas Longhorns, 11-4, in the third and deciding game. Pretty sure it was Blaine's pitching that clinched that win! LOL!!!


End file.
